Moment Passing, Era Ending
by Jess J
Summary: It's hard to hate someone you've loved for over a hundred years. Selene POV, set at the end of the movie. Please r&r!


Author's note: Ok, my muse has been in a weird mood lately, and wanted to write some one-shots. Last night, she got antsy to write this Selene POV piece that had been on her mind for a while, and so, here it is. Thanks to Kristen for her lovely review of it last night, and hope everyone else enjoys it. Please review though, as I've never really written Selene much before, except for Hybrid War and would love to know how well or horridly I wrote her.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Sony, Len Wiseman, Kevin Grevioux, and Danny McBride, plus anyone else who has dibs on the copyright and stuff. I mean no infringement, and am only playing with the lovely characters created by those people. Please do not sue me. Savvy?

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MOMENT PASSING, ERA ENDING

It's hard to hate someone you've loved for over a hundred years. It's even harder to accept the fact that you are the one who has to kill them, and live with it. It's so very hard to realize everything is a lie, everything you've fought for was nothing but an illusion, and that someone you have come to think of, to love as a father, is the illusionist.

Yet, that is what has happened, what I have discovered. Until a few days ago, everything was simple. Everything was as it should be, everything was right.

Now, everything is wrong, my world is dust, crumbling walls landing at my feet. My life has been nothing but lie after lie, so many of us, we have fought, have driven to preserve this lie unwittingly. Nothing makes sense in this moment, staring at a creature I was told could not, and would not exist. Nothing is right in this moment as I stare at the corpse of my second father, dead by my own hand, to rescue this creature I helped create.

His blood, it is still fresh in my veins. His lycan blood. I wonder, will I become like him? Will I become part lycan as well, infected with the lycanthropy, the wolfen strain of this virus? No, I do not think so, I would have felt the change. I do not understand, or do I want to.

I don't want to understand any of it, really. I just want it all to make sense again, I want that black and white world I used to live in. I want my family back. I want, I want Michael.

That's why I saved him. That's why I listened to Lucian, the fiercest lycan leader, the alpha of the clan I hade spent so much of my life seeking to wipe out, the race I always believed had ravaged my family. That's why I, a Death Dealer sired by Lord Viktor, created the abomination my sire killed his own daughter to keep from coming into being.

Because I wanted him, because I felt something for him, something that would cause me to betray everything before I knew of the ultimate betrayal done to me. Because he was innocent and kind and heroic. He was beautifully human, and he was dragged into this war against his will.

Just like I was, some many years ago.

I stare at Michael, his form changing swiftly back to the familiar human body. I stare at him, meeting his eyes as everything sinks into us both. As we realize just what has happened. What we've done, what we have become.

The lycans, they bow to Michael now, lost without their leader. Lucian, dead now by the hand of the traitor Kraven. Turned into the fearsome warrior by Viktor. His life, his family, everything ruined and destroyed by Viktor. All because he dared to love a vampire, and she dared to love him back.

Sonja, someone I never knew until tonight, until a few minutes ago truly. Yet she, she was the cause of my survival, my turning that night. She and Lucian, and Viktor's hate, they were the cause of this, of me. If I had not reminded Viktor of his daughter, if he had not seen something in me that night that made him keep me alive and make me his replacement for Sonja, I would be dead now. I would be dead, drained and torn like my family was.

I would be dead, like Sonja, like Amelia, like Lucian, Like Viktor. Like all the lycans I killed, and all my fellow Death Dealers killed by the werewolves, by my own hand tonight.

So much death surrounds those who are immortals. Why? Why do we seem to walk in the shadow of death constantly, when we are still alive, still breathing, still yearning and wanting and hurting? We die as well, we seek each other out, killing and destroying. Why?

Because the man I trusted above all others was scared, was scared of losing power, of losing control. Yet, I cannot help but think, perhaps he was truly afraid that the hybrid would be a threat to our kind, to itself even, to the lycans, to the humans. How else could he kill his own flesh and blood? Was he really that cold, that, hard without reason?

Was I that way? Was I just like him, killing unjustly? Yet I believed it was justified, he made me believe it was so. And until Michael, I followed blindly.

Michael. Now what would become of him, of us? We were now just as hunted as the lycans.

Viktor, the replacement father who molded me into the perfect daughter, trying to keep me from Sonja's path.

Sonja, the vampire who had fallen in love with a lycan slave, had carried the lycan's child until both were killed.

Lucian. The leader of my kind's enemy, who had once loved a vampire, and had saved both Michael and myself. In his dying moments, he had saved us. 

Myself. Betrayed, lied to, frozen to everything but the war for so long. Now, now everything was upside down, and I find I do not care if I understand. Because now I know the truth, now I have Michael, and I have control again.

But it is still so very hard to hate someone you've loved for over a hundred years.


End file.
